


Starvation

by qtipping



Series: Full [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Dad!Cor, First of a series, Gen, Homelessness, I'll add more as we continue, Other, Poor Prompto, Protective!Regis, Starvation, gooddad!regis, hopefully, if I'll get off my dumb depressed ass and write, just these boys for now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-18 04:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18112874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qtipping/pseuds/qtipping
Summary: "Prompto dug through the third garbage can, looking for anything sustainable to eat. It’s been three days since he had any food in his system, weeks since an actual full meal. Begging in the streets is not as easy as it used to be, back when he was little and people actually took pity on him. Now they just see him as any other homeless person, marching past him without a second glance."





	Starvation

**Author's Note:**

> Bonjour! (That's french for "hello" I know this because I'm currently in France!)
> 
> Anyway this is part one of a (hopefully) series that I shall continue!
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always welcomed!! And please enjoy me making pure sunshine child suffer :)

Prompto dug through the third garbage can, looking for anything sustainable to eat. It’s been three days since he had any food in his system, weeks since an actual full meal. Begging in the streets is not as easy as it used to be, back when he was little and people actually took pity on him. Now they just see him as any other homeless person, marching past him without a second glance.

Some people have tried to recruit him for jobs, mostly prostitution and drug dealing, but he’s not that desperate yet, there’s still time to turn this dry spell around.

He shoved the lid shut after finding nothing in the trash, not unless he wanted to die from sickness and infection than starvation.

He stomach was a dull pain, it always was, but it was getting stronger, warning him that he was getting worse. He slid down the brick wall, staring at the partly cloudy sky, hopelessly hoping for someone to drop a fine meal on his lap.

He groaned when he started smelling fresh bread, trying desperately to ignore it and shake it off as his mind playing tricks on him. The smell quickly became too much, and his body reacted on its own as he winded through allys and climbed fences to find the source of the smell.

That’s when he faced the gates to the Citadel, crouching behind fine trimmed bushes as he watched servants walk across with steaming food in their hands. If he had any water left in his body he's sure he’d be drooling, he was panting at the sight, like a starved dog. They went through a back door, no guards were stationed by the door, and the gates had bars just wide enough to slip through.

“No,” He hissed, crouching out of sight. “Don’t even think about it you idiot! They’ll kill you on sight!” Though the more he thought about it, the more he realized getting gunned down by guards wasn’t the _worst_ way to go...

He peered over the foliage again, scanning the area for any guards or servants or noblemen, yet none came. They must be inside, either preparing meals or eating it as they laughed and talked with bellies full.

That motivated him enough to run, climbing over the hedge and hobbling towards the gates, slipping through the bars, and quickly entering the side door.

It was cramp, barely enough room for two people to walk side by side. Instantly Prompto started to panic, not having to experience cramp walls like this in so long while living on the streets, but he pushed through at the thought of warm food.

He pressed up against the wall as the servants went about preparing meals, pots boiling and pans sizzling, an aroma of smells almost too much for the young teen. His legs were starting to give out on him, he started getting light headed and began seeing spots.

Finally, the servants picked up plates and left, the kitchen now empty and silent. Prompto acted fast, scrambling to the first table of food he found and began shoving as much as he could into his mouth. His conscious tried to tell him to slow down, that he’s made this mistake before, but he was not paying attention to anything else besides the food in front of him.

He began shoving some in his pockets when he heard voices, shoes echoing off the tile, getting louder and louder.

He was frozen, like the squirrels he’s seen frozen in front of headlights, unknowing of what to do.

In a panic he went to a trolly and climbed beneath the curtain, bringing his body close as he peeked out the slit in the curtains.

The servants laughed and talked as they prepared more food, some were blaming others for the sudden loss of food on one plate. They started gathering more plates and he thought they would leave, but then a sudden jerk shocked him and he realized they were pushing the trolly he was in.

Prompto hid in the trolley as it was rolled through the hallways, eyes blown wide and barely breathing. He felt it turn left and right, going into elevators where he held his breath from the close quarters, more turns where it grew quieter and quieter, away from the business of the main floors of the Citadel.

Finally, a door opened, the cart being rolled in, Prompto could hear bright, mirthful talking.

“A moogle could totally beat a cactuar!” A high, girlish voice accused.

A boyish voice replied, “Oh please! All the cactuar would have to do is it’s thousand needle attack and the moodle would be toast!”

“Alright alright,” An older voice laughed over the two arguing. “That’s enough, dinner is here.” Prompto heard plates being lifted above him, steps going towards the voices, he took the chance to peak open the curtain that hid him.

He almost vomited right there.

King Regis sat at the head of the table, in a lavish chair, smiling warmly as the dinner was presented. There were two older men beside him, one he guessed as the shield, he didn’t know who the second one was.

The Prince was at the other end of the table in a similarly lavish chair, two younger men next to him, and the girl was between the two shields.

He needed to get out of here _now_ , he needed to leave before they found him, a _commoner_ who snuck in a stole their food!

He pushed the curtain back as the servants retreated back to the cart, he sat there huddled and breathing slowly. Listening to them eat was like torture, the torture he was well used to, but this time it seemed worse. The smell is what almost made him lunge out for the food, the sweet almost spicy smelling meat that he only got a taste of. Everything smelled warm and perfect, he tried to think about something else, something to get his stomach to stop knotting painfully, but the smell kept bringing him back.

Just when he thought he’d made it, when he felt pain reside into the numbness it normally is, his stomach decided that _now_ was the time to ultimately betray him. He clutched his stomach painfully hard as a loud growl had escaped it, the monster inside him begging for the food he has teased it with.

He sobbed silently as he heard the silverware drop, all sound stopping.

A voice he hadn’t heard gave a chuckle, “Forget to eat before starting your shift, Landon?”

“That... wasn’t me, sir.” The guard corrected, he heard boots scuff by him, the servants mumbling their denial of them being the source of the growl. Prompto saw the black boots stop just before the cart, he prayed to all the Astrals to just give him an ounce of luck.

The Gods, apparently, hated him, for his stomach released a second growl.

He swallowed hard, he saw the boots step back, a hand suddenly ripping the curtain away to reveal him curled up inside the cart.

“Hey!” The man shouted, his face silhouetted by the lights, Prompto shoved him and bolted.

~~~

Noctis saw the Guard investigate the source of the sound, the others watching him as well. Well, all except for Iris, who was perfectly content in chewing on her steak. Noctis was about the call the guard off the hunt, telling him to ignore it and for them just to get back to dinner. But then a second growl came, he felt Gladio hold his hand in a light grip. Landon pulled back the curtain beneath the cart-

“Hey!” The guard shouted, Cor instantly on his feet, hand bracing his katana. A bony, pale hand shoved Landon and took off, Cor stood frozen.

Noctis saw the kid, Gods he looked younger than him, sprinting through the dining room, guards around the room taking up defensive stances, but looked _very_ unwilling to actually harm the kid.

Still, he panicked, skidding around the room, looking for an exit. Another guard ran to him, attempting to stop him, but stopped short when the boy released a strangled cry and packed into a corner, curled up into a tight ball.

“Enough, enough!” Regis stood, lifting up a hand, stopping the guards, “He’s only a child. A scared one at that.” Noctis watched his father make his way around the table, eyes focused on the small ball, a ghost smile on his lips. “It’s alright child, we’re not going to harm you.” Noctis saw the kid shaking, head hidden behind his knees, and made no move to even acknowledge the King. “We have plenty of food to share, why don’t you join us? It must be uncomfortable sitting on the hard floor like that.” Regis tried to coax the kid to stand, to look up, to do _anything_ but give harsh, raspy breaths. Regis sighed and turned back, Noctis noticed that Clarus was half out of his chair, ready to defend his King but also protect Iris from the intruder.

“Please place another chair for our guest,” Regis commanded, and it was meet. A servant hurried and placed another chair between Ignis and Cor, a fresh bowl of soup placed in front of it. Noctis saw Cor slowly let his hand drop from his katana, watched him slowly sink back into his chair.

“You better come eat it soon, before it gets cold,” Regis spoke into the room, everyone knowing to whom he was speaking to, however. He simply picked up his wine and took another sip.

Dinner was quiet after that, everyone holding their breath and wondering what the child would do, everyone praying he would understand they wanted him to eat.

~~~

Prompto held his breath, trying to catch any noise of someone coming after him, to restrain him and arrest him, but there was nothing. Prompto knew it was a trap, it had to be, they’d want to give him the false sense of hope before ripping it away from him.

But that hope of a warm meal outweighed his fear of death.

He slowly lifted his head and took in the scene: none of the guards touched him, they didn’t even make a move to acknowledge him. None except the small girl did but was quickly turned back around by the older man by her, Prompto could only guess he was her father. Everyone else at the table sat in silence, taking small bites of their lavish food, he noticed an empty chair between the older man and the young one with glasses.

He stood on shaky legs, threatening to give out at any moment from the sudden exertion he had to do, his adrenaline already fading. Still, that steaming bowl of soup called to him, begged for him, and even if they were going to kill him afterward for trespassing, at least he’d die on a full stomach. He gave the table a wide breadth, staring at each occupant with wide, violet eyes. He fell twice, his legs giving out and having to catch himself on his hands and knees; he heard boots come towards him, felt a presence behind him, reaching out. It put enough energy to jerk away and stand again.

He reached the empty chair: between the calm boy with parted hair and glasses and the gruff, hard-faced man that Prompto couldn’t help but stare at.

His stomach growled again, reminding him of what was but three feet before him. He came to the chair by the glasses man side and practically collapsed in the chair.

~~~

Noctis spared himself to look at the boy now that he was sitting, what he saw made him lose his appetite quickly. His cheeks were sunken in, eyes too. It was like his skin was only covering his bones, no fat or muscle left on him. His hair was matted, and probably blond at one point, but the dirt and mud colored it. The clothes really were awful, filthy and torn, like they were the only pair of clothes he owned.

_They probably are_ , Noctis through gravelly, remembering now the distinct pat of practically bare feet on the tile. The boy stared at the soup, staring at it like it was a prized heirloom, but his hands stayed firm in his lap, scared to touch anything.

“Go on and eat,” Regis muttered, the King’s face drawn into a sorrowful frown. Slowly, the boy picked up the spoon, examining it closely before clutching it in his hands like a vice. He dipped it in the soup, hands shaking so bad he had to re-dump it. He brought it to his lips, carefully sipping the soup into his mouth, everyone released a collective sigh.

The kid’s eyes got wider, if that was even possible, mouth parting and a silver lining his eyes. He began shoveling soup into his mouth as fast as he could, when the spoon was too slow for his liking, he ditched it and picked up the bowl, clasping his lips to it and tilting it back, tears running down his face. Ignis knew the boy was eating too fast, he would just puke it all up later, he needed to stop this before it went too far.

Carefully, Ignis placed a hand on the boy’s bony shoulder, attempting to get his attention. Instead, the boy shrieked and dropped the bowl, the contents spilling and bowl clattering to the floor. The commotion caused another scream, a broken scream that was hoarse from dehydration. He stared panicked at the shattered bowl, at the soup drenching his clothes, he began wheezing, hands clutching to his shirt as he tried to suck the contents from it.

“It’s alright,” Ignis now turned the boy to face him, but it only resulted in him ducking his head and covering it with his hands. “It’s alright, I’m not angry.” Behind them, servants began cleaning up the mess quickly, Cor moving so they could have easier access, but he kept his eyes locked on the boy. Noctis saw Clarus lift Iris up, who was struggling against his grip.

“But I wanna stay!” She pouted, but Clarus gave her no room for argument.

“No you will go home with Jared.” His voice was stern, locking eyes with her for a moment, she sighed and nodded. A maid came and took her hand leading her away, but Regis made sure to give her a kiss on the head and a wish goodnight.

Meanwhile, Ignis was still soothing the boy, who was beginning to hyperventilate.

“Can you look at me?” Ignis questioned in his softest tone, Noctis almost didn’t hear it, he noticed Ignis had also let go of the boy’s shoulders. It took a while, but the boy finally lifted his gaze to stare pitifully at Ignis, hands still clenched to his ears. Ignis gave his softest smile, “Can you breathe with me? Here, deep breath in,” He exaggerated his breathing, holding it for several seconds. “And out.” He let it out slowly, loudly so the boy could hear him. He kept doing it, continuing to do so when the boy shakily joined, his shakiness subsiding little by little.

When Ignis decided the boy wouldn’t pass out from the panic attack, he smiled again. “There you are, you’re doing just fine. I was not mad, I was merely trying to get you to slow down. You see your stomach is not big enough to have you eat that much food, so eating that quickly will make you throw up. You don’t want that, do you?” The boy shook his head. “I thought you wouldn’t either, so let’s try again, and this time, let’s take our time, hm?”

The boy nodded and turned back slowly, blinking at the new bowl of soup placed before him. He looked around at everyone again, as if making sure it was still alright. The others only gave him soft smiles and small nods.

He picked up the spoon again, but Cor spoke up now, “Why don’t you drink some water first.” The boy froze, not looking to Cor, but nodding. He placed the spoon down and, with both hands, gripped the glass and picked it up. He took his first sip, Noctis saw him almost drop the cup from pure relief that swept through his body. He took more sips, quickly getting it up to chug, but stopped abruptly. He turned to Ignis with a pained look, as if he was expecting to be punished for drinking to fast. Ignis simply gave him a smile and a nod, encouraging him to drink more. He did, slowly but surely he drank the entire glass, setting it down painfully carefully.

He went back to the soup, clutching the spoon and carefully putting some in his mouth. He swallowed, but hesitated, unknowing when to eat again.

Ignis leaned towards him with the same soft spokenness, “Take another sip.” He did, “Now take two deep breaths.” He did, “And then take another sip.” The boy followed his instructions, shoveling a spoonful of soup into his mouth, swallowing, breathing deeply two times, before doing it again.

Noctis tried to go back to his food, but the meat tasted like ash in his mouth now, how long was this kid going without food while he ate nice meals every night? How many more children are like that, scrapping for anything to eat.

The boy ate through half of the soup before he went to get a spoonful and hesitated, fighting the urge to eat more but the settling in his stomach too much to move him.

“You don’t have to eat it all, lad.” Regis softened, the boy instantly set the spoon down, hands in his lap, unmistakable fear in his face. Regis gave him a fatherly smile, “Look at me, child.” Slowly the boy lifted his head, facing the King, his hands began shaking again. “I want you to understand that you are in no trouble of any kind. I am not angry at you, not in the slightest, do you understand?” The boy seemed a bit unconvinced but nodded anyway. “Would it be alright if I asked you some questions?” The boy swallowed but nodded. Regis’ smile widened, hands still relaxed in his lap. “Thank you, now why don’t we just start with the basics. What is your name?” The boy swallowed again, opening his mouth, but no words came out. He tried again, but all that came out was a rasp.

“Drink some more water,” Cor gently pushed the now-full glass towards the boy. “Don’t stop drinking until your throat stops hurting.” He obeyed, slowly sipping the water until his throat stopped feeling like it was on fire until he could feel the coolness running through his entire body.

This time, when he opened his mouth, words came out. “P-Prom...to.”

“Prompto,” Regis spoke. “A pleasure to meet you, Prompto.” Prompto gave a shallow nod, hands wringing in his lap. “How old are you, Prompto?” His question was meet with a blank, horrified stare, Regis could hear Clarus sigh heavily next to him.

Prompto gave a weak shrug, eyes cast down to his lap.

“It’s alright, I’m not angry,” Regis corrected. “We’ll find out, won’t we? Why don’t you give us an estimate, how old do you think you are?”

Prompto wanted to answer truthfully, wanted to be honest with the King who gave him such good food, but he _didn’t_ know! _Last birthday I remember was my eighth... since then I’ve had... six winters? That’s... eight plus six..._

Ignis saw him counting on his fingers, concluding elementary schooling at best.

“F-fourteen?” Prompto answered, lifting his head to the King, Noctis thought a sword was rammed through his chest.

Fourteen, that’s only a year younger than him, and how long was that spent hungry, living in the streets?

“Do you know where your parents are?” Clarus questioned now, his voice the uncommon softness that’s only reserved for Iris and sometimes Gladio.

Prompto gave a shrug at that but did not offer anything else.

“I think we’ve asked young Prompto enough questions for the night,” Regis suggested. “Prompto, can you please stay at the Citadel tonight? I would rather not like to let you out into the city this late with no home to go to.”

Prompto snapped his head up, fear flooding his eyes, but as he looked around he saw only gentle kind eyes. He turned back to the King, speaking so small Regis almost missed out. “I-I’m allowed to?”

“But of course, I would not be offering if I didn't mean it.” Regis smiled, he stood, Prompto instantly tensing up. “Now, why don’t we have Cor here show you where you’ll be staying. We have a room not far from here that you can stay in. Tomorrow we’ll see about getting you a check-up with the Citadel Doctors, okay?” Prompto nodded weakly, but Regis doubted he was listening to what he was saying as his eyes continued to stare at the soup.

However, he did notice Cor stand, and he pushed his chair back, quickly getting to his feet so to not make him wait. The movement, however, sent his head spinning and he quickly began losing his balance.

Strong arms caught him, steadying him, when he looked up he locked eyes with the sky-blue eyes for Cor.

“I got you, you’re okay.” Cor soothed, slowly pulling an entranced Prompto to his feet, keeping on hand on his arm as he slowly leads him from the dinner table.

~~~

Prompto did not even notice his surroundings, the guards trailing after them, the servants hurrying to get the room ready, only focused on Cor, the blue eyes that stared ahead.

He kept his focus on the man in front of him, watching, waiting for him to turn and strike him, to grab him and toss him in the dungeons.

“Prompto?” Cor’s voice shook him from his thoughts, he blinked, suddenly he was in a room. He gulped, staring at Cor, wondering if he was supposed to be listening, but Cor did not raise his hands to him.

Instead, he asked, “Do you want to get cleaned up now or tomorrow?” _Cleaned up? Oh! Bathe_ ! Prompto nodded greedily despite the exhaustion that clung to him, his heavy stomach dragging him to the ground. Cor led him silently to the bathroom, Prompto able to get a look at the bedroom, at the massive bed that stood in the middle of it. _How long has it been since I’ve been in a bed_? Too long, Prompto concluded, too damn long.

They entered the bathroom, Cor flipped on the lights revealing the white tiled room. The sight put panic in Prompto, panic from a fear he knew not of.

“Okay, here’s the shower,” Cor pulled back the curtains. “Do you need me to show you how to work it?” Prompto shifted, aware of how dirty he is, how disgusting he is and how he’s staining the very air of this perfect place. Cor made no comment, simply turning a knob and watching water cascade from the faucet above them.

Prompto stood in silence as Cor fiddled with the different knobs, making it colder or hotter, turning other knobs that made the waterfall heavier or make it more like a spray. Prompto hoped he wasn’t in the way.

Finally Cor moved back, “Okay that should be good. If not, this knob makes it hotter, this one makes it colder. Turn this knob this way to increase the water pressure, turn it this way to decrease it. Finally just twist both of those knobs to turn if off, okay?” Prompto gave a nod despite not knowing what _water pressure_ is, he just hoped the water stayed on long enough.

“Right... okay, towels are here, and I’ll bring you clean clothes once you’re done.” With that he turned and left.

Prompto did not react right away, the promise of another pair of clothing shocking him, making him teary.

_Get a hold of yourself! You’re wasting water_! I cringed inwardly and removed the wraps from his feet, folding them and placing them neatly on the counter, hopefully they’ll give him some more wraps.

_Or maybe even shoes_.

He stepped into the shower fully clothed, but the first feel of the hot water against his skin made him jump. He blinked, wondering if he was getting sick, but he reached out again in the large shower and ran his hand under the water, the warm water soaking his skin. He carefully went under the spray, letting his body get drenched in the warmth, having to shift on his feet because the hot water was burning the coldness from his feet. He forgot how long he was under there, trying to enjoy the warm water, letting it relax his muscles.

Then he remembered he had to wash, to clean all the filth off of him, and got to work. He picked up the shampoo, struggling to read what kind it was, and quickly discovered he didn’t care.

He allowed himself to pour a little more than needed and thoroughly washed his hair, the soap quickly becoming brown and grey from the filth that had collected on the top of his head. He scrubbed until he was sure he would yank his hair out, then he washed it out, letting the dirt and grime wash away. When he was sure he got all the shampoo off he took off his clothing carefully, holding the disgusting pants and shirt and underwear in one hand, soap in the other.

He tried to clean his clothes carefully, so to not make any more holes or tears, but it was quickly proving difficult. He scrubbed hard, wanting to make the most of his hot shower and fully clean his clothes, even though he knew it was nearly impossible.

He decided his work was done when he began to sort of see the faded Chocobo on his shirt, he smiled at the bird, almost sad at how he forgot what he wore.

He set the clothing articles on the bar outside the shower, _can’t waste good clothes like these_ , marveling at the steam that had built up in the bathroom for only a moment before stepping back in.

~~~

Cor held the folded sleepwear in his hands, debating whether to go in now and try to slip it in or wait until the kid was done showering...

He slowly opened the bathroom door, looking in to make sure everything was alright. Concluding that to be so, he set the clothes on the counter, taking the scraps that were used to cover his feet. He turned to leave when he caught the clothes dripping on the towel rack, they were drenched, like he entered the shower with his clothes still on. What’s worse, Cor thought they looked cleaner, he could see a little bit of theChocoboo graphic on the shirt that he could no see previously.

_Why did he bother washing those clothes? Does he not think we’ll give him more_? He debated taking them, that way the kid won’t have to even look at them again, but he figured that would only lead to more problems. He left the bathroom and closed the door carefully.

~~~

Prompto moved on to his body, this time he was not afraid to scrub hard and vigorously. He scrubbed his body until it hurt, until his skin was turning red, but it was all worth it to see the dirt begin to run down the drain. He set the bar of soap down and made sure he got everything, but the last bottle next to the shampoo made his brows furrow.

He picked it up and read it carefully, _Con...condit...ion...er_. He saw the words “hair” and “care” beneath it, deciding to use it, just in case.

He lathered the white cream in his hair, making sure he got every part of the long and matted hair, running it through the water when done.

He turned off the water, the silence echoed in the bathroom, only interrupted by the water dripping into the tub. He enjoyed the moment of bliss, breathing deeply, enjoying the fresh _clean_ smell that filled the room. Then he felt his body begin to shiver, realizing the heat was quickly escaping his shower. He grabbed a towel and began drying off, amazed at the fluffiness the pristine towel had. He stepped out and onto the shower matt, carefully drying each crevice so to not get the tiles unnecessarily wet and dirty with his filth still running of his body. He went to grab his old clothes when he saw the folded pair on the counter, his foot wraps nowhere to be seen. He did not want to grab it at first, wanted to be in his clothes that he knew were safe and not a trap, but then he remembered that Cor said he’d give him clothes.

He hastily got the pajamas, running his hands through the soft fabric, they smelled clean and felt warm! He was quick to get dressed, and even though the shirt and pants were too big on his bony frame, he felt warm... safe. He wrapped his arms around his stomach, giving small rocks as he enjoyed the warmth he received.

He used his towel to dry the water that had collected beneath his clothes, cursing his stupidness for not noticing sooner, then he cautiously opened the door and stepped out.

Cor stood from his place at the chair in the bedroom, looking over the kid, grunting at how big those clothes were on him. Prompt shied away, suddenly aware of the older man examining him, the bright blue eyes staring at him, judging him.

Cor realized what he was doing and quickly cleared his throat, putting on a light smile, “Ah. You’re fine kid, you cleaned up well. Let’s get some sleep then we can do something about that hair tomorrow,” He walked to the bed, pulling the covers back and getting the pillows situated. Prompto was quick to help, doing his part and careful not to get in the way.

Cor noticed the sweat band that was still secured tight around the kids bony wrist, but made no move to comment on it.

Instead Cor smiled at their work of getting the bed read, going around to the other side and resting a soft hand on his shoulders, but let go when he saw the younger man flinched again. He sighed and gestured to the bed, “Get some sleep kid. If you need anything there will be someone right outside, okay?” Prompto nodded but made no move to get into bed. Cor left him alone and turned out the lights, leaving the bedroom and the suite. A guard was outside the room, he wanted to tell the guard to leave, that it wasn’t necessary to stand guard for a child who shakes like a leaf and too scrawny to even run. But he was figured it was more for the chance the child needed someone.

He was asleep before his head hit the pillow, _what a fucking night_.


End file.
